The two ships met somewhere in an undisclosed ice field, the fighter moored to the destroyer. The fighter commander met his Emperor aboard the cruiser in private chamber over a meal of raw meat and blood wine.
The Emperor wore his robes, the commander his armor and cloak.
"You make me proud," explained the Emperor, "of all our people, it is you that has kept the warrior way of our heart alive. While most of us live in obscurity, trying to find a place to fit in, you have fought hard and fought well. qa'plAH."
The Emperor poured a fresh drink for each from a tall, glass container and handed the Commander one.
"Now, you have accepted a contract, one that you wish to speak nothing of, even unto me," the Emperor asked.
"Yes," he simply answered, "if there is one thing that I have learned in my travels, one must pick his friends wisely in Sirius and pick his business contacts even wiser."
"You are wise," the Emperor answered, "But, your silence even unto me is.....concerning."
"Well, Sir," the Commander continued to explain, "I have learned that many of these Sirians will stop at nothing to extract information. They will torture, they will push.." He then paused before continuing, leaning forward a bit to face his Emperor, "....they will destroy the ship of someone you care about, just to make a point even if that person knows nothing."
He then leaned back, "So many have lost what to be human is."
It was evident to the wise old Emperor, he could tell his young Commander was trying to keep him sheilded, to keep him out of it and he respected it.
"I can respect that," the Emperor answered, "and I will not push further except to ask when you plan to leave for this mission?"
"In a couple of days," was all he answered. "I will report to you when I return."
With that, they finished their meal. Then, the commander left to prepare.
I am most impressed with my engineer. He has worked our transponder and found our old identification system buried amongst some old gear and made them work. At least now we shouldn't have as much trouble once we get to where we need to be.
Planet Leeds, despite the war, is doing well. Those whom I have met seem in good spirits. If only they knew. In as much as I hate them, we are taking on provisions for the trip. I only hope that in the end, this is worth it.
The fighter made it's way through the mine field and back into Tau space. Besides a few asteroid strikes, the ship was in good shape. With it's cargo of samples, it took a route less traveled, squeezing between the 23 sun and the mine field laid by the Outcasts. It had been some time since it had done so and struck a mine, doing damage to the ship. Still, it pressed on to Tau 31 where it traveled the ice fields to the Edinburgh hole and finally to Leeds itself where it finally landed.
All cargo items were secured as the ship underwent repair work on it's left wing. In the meanwhile, the crew retired to the place they had rented to stay for some much needed rest. Before he got some rest himself, the Commander made his log entry:
Commander's Log:
Mission a success. Having much of the region charted before hand made it that much easier. We were able to finish the charting with ease and speed while avoiding detection. My engineer needs to process all the pictures that were taken...which were many. Once done, I need to schedule a meeting with my employer.
We have returned home to Houston where my engineer is processing all the camera shots that were taken. Once he is finished, I will make up the reports. That's a long trip out there. At least now that I have established a contact, we should not have to return...at least not for a recon trip anyway.
I did meet up with Frasier and give him the goods we acquired. Now, to finish these reports and enjoy some much needed rest.
Commander Roden was sitting at the Freeport 9 bar, working on a goblet of blood wine when the administrator called him.
"Commander Roden, you have a secure transmission," said the Administrator.
Saying nothing, Roden went to his quarters where he took the transmission. It was his chancellor.
"Neq'neh, Chancellor Gorkon," he said sharply, "an honor as always to speak with you."
"Commander, I will cut to the chase," Gorkon said, "things have heated up out here in Omega 49. You will find the details on your com in our own tongue. What is your availability and that of Commander Rodeffer?"
Roden reviewed the information. He began to grow angry when he read of those whom had rescued his people were being attacked and betrayed.
"I can be underway in a few minutes if you wish," Roden said, "as for Rodeffer, his bomber would be rather useless against fighters. Maybe with a retrofit, it may be useful but it would take a day anyway."
"Hm," groaned the Chancellor, "head to Canaria then. Rodeffer can follow later. We need your fighter."
"Yes, Chancellor. Qa'plAH!" he answered and cut the signal.
Within minutes, he undocked, engaged the cruise engines of his Wasupu and made his way to Omega 49. His trip through Theta, 41 and 47 were uneventful minus a few Hessian and Corsair patrols. He arrived in Canaria, awaiting his next order.
Sitting in his command center at the Klingon colony nestled in Gran Canaria, Gorkon sat, going over notes and various transmissions. Under the quiet of the Canarian suns, his people had enjoyed much growth without much resistance. The Zoner people still seemed to be the only ones who accepted them but most amongst them began to feel that living under the banner of neutrality wasn't for a warrior.
They trained hard every day in hand to hand and continued building and/or buying ships as allowed. Still, with the civil war amongst the nearby Coalition, he felt it was close to time to parting with the Zoner flag. As he reviewed notes, one of his trusted military advisors brought him a report.
"Chancellor, the latest on what ships we have," he said as he handed him the report.
"Hm.." groaned Gorkon as he scratched his chin, "I see that Korg finally got rid of that Eagle in favor of something better."
"Yes, Sir," replied the advisor.
"Roden is still in system and Rodeffer has upgraded his guns. Order him here!" declared Gorkon.
"Yes, Sir," replied the Advisor.
Gorkon then turned to his advisor, "If we abandon the Zoner way, we will have to find a source of new ships and transponders. Who would you approach for tech?"
"Well, Sir," began the Advisor, "the Independent Miner's Guild makes a fine ship. I do believe Matok once flew one of their gunships. He spoke well of it. As for transponders? I wouldn't know off hand so I will see what option is best for us."
"Very well," replied the Chancellor, "you are dismissed."
The Chancellor sat, wondering, where his people stood in such crazy times.